Sunday, December 08, 2013

Seduction 48, 49, 50

Seduction 48


Andrea caresses me, teases me, tantalizes me while we unpack our clothing.  Several times she plucks my nipples.  She even inserts her fingers once, checking my state of arousal.
She grins when she feels my moisture.  “You are definitely ready for penetration baby!” she giggles.  “Are you ready to feel a gorgeous black male inseminate you, make our baby inside your flat little smooth white belly?”
I blush.  I nod hesitantly.  “Will you still like me when I am fat and swollen?” I ask, afraid of her answer.
She takes my face between her hands, her face within inches of mine.  “As my father used to say almost every time he saw a pregnant woman, ‘A woman is never sexier than when she is nine months pregnant!’  I agree with him.  Your boobs will be plump and swollen with milk.  Your butt will be firm and round from carrying the added weight of the baby.  Your face will glow with health.  What’s not to love about you when your preggers, baby?”
I kiss her softly, hoping against hope that she will make love to me.  I need a full blown orgasm so badly!
Lovingly, she returns my kisses, fondling my breast. 
Then she pulls away.  “No release until you are with your stud, baby.  I want you so on-edge that you literally explode when he fills you with his baby-batter!”
With that she turns to layout what she wants me to wear when I meet what might be our child’s father.  She looks up at me.  “Call your husband and let him know we arrived in good shape, baby.”
Jon has always been tuned into the sound of my voice, able to read my moods.  “Hey baby!  Thanks for calling!  I miss you terribly.  But thank god Andrea is going to video your love making, so I’ll get to watch you while it happens!  I’ve been hard continuously since you left!”
I have conveniently forgotten about being videoed!  “She’s going to video us?” I ask, startled, feeling very timid about the idea.  I remind myself that she owns me.  And she owns the products of my genitalia, of my body.  My tummy trembles even more.  “Is she going to put it on the Internet?” I ask.
“Of course baby!”  That’s where I get to watch it!  She makes a huge amount of money by selling the real time video of people having sex.  No fake stuff.  Just real sex by real people!” he says, obviously turned on by the idea.  “You sound a little scared, but very turned on, baby.”
As usual, Jon is right.  “Yeah,” I admit.
We are silent for a little while.  Jon reads my unspoken question.  “Yes sweetheart, I will love you being pregnant by another man, and yes, I will love our little baby.”
I whisper, “Thank you honey.”  I really needed to hear him say that right now.
‘Oh my god, this is really going to happen!’ I think, again, for the hundredth time.
We shower, with Andrea twiddling me just enough to make me moan with need, but not enough to bring me to fruition. 
Andrea helps me dress, choosing the clothes she wants me to wear for my Internet porno expose.
She pulls me over to stand in front of the mirror while she tweaks my apparel.
My Andrea is really excited.  “Stand there while I take your picture to put on the Internet.  Something tells me that we are going to have a record number of log-ons tonight!  Every person that logs on for this event pays a hundred dollars per half hour.  We’re going to make bank tonight, Sweet Pea!”
She snaps away as she has me turn and move and show off what she calls my sales appeal.  She posts the pictures on her porn site as I watch. 
I have to admit, I really do look seductive!
We watch as the number of log-ons rise, as the total site count swells, as the dollar ticker races upward.
Andrea laughs as she points at the computer screen.  “That lil ‘money maker’ of yours is definitely the perfect attraction, baby!  Look at that cash ticker skyrocket!”

Seduction 49


Andrea ‘dresses to the nines’ as well.  She is the same seductively gorgeous woman she has always been.  I think back to the very first time I saw her, our first night in the same room during our college years.  At that time, I would have never thought that she and I would become lovers, much less that she would become a very high paid call girl, then have her own call girl service . . . and then “hire” me to be a call girl that works for her!
And now, tonight, I am going to meet the man that will pay big bucks . . . to her . . . to impregnate me?
The musky scent of the ocean engulfs us as we leave our hotel.  Jamaica is its own sort of place.  It has its own ambience, its own character, and its own scents.  I am rapidly growing to love this island. 
Standing with his hand on our door, the stiffly dressed black driver of the limo gawks at the two of us as we demurely slide into the rear seat. He stares, hoping to catch a glimpse up our skirts.
We both grin as we part our thighs to oblige him.  The swelling outline of his erection is our reward.
A too short few minutes later we arrive at the bar where we are to meet my john.
“What if I don’t know it’s him?  Will he be offended?” I ask Andrea.
She chuckles as she looks at me out of the corner of her eye.  “He might have to turn you across his lap and spank that luscious little white bottom of yours!”  She laughs, “In public!”
I see some delivery-style vans with what looks like video technicians hovering around, looking our direction.  Andrea motions to them to follow us in. 
‘Oh god, I am really going to be a porn princess . . . .’ I think. 
I find myself hoping my john smells good, especially his breath.
Suddenly I panic.  ‘Oh god, what if I end up having feelings for him?  What would Jon think?’  I grip Andrea’s arm as I fight my rising anxiety.
Somehow Andrea understands what I need.  She gathers me into her arms and whispers that everything will be all right, and that she will make sure I am always safe.  She holds me tenderly as my trembling subsides.  Then she whispers, “I love you so much, baby.  More than I ever thought possible.”  Her lips are trembling as she gently, tenderly kisses me.  She looks me in the eye, her hands on my cheeks. 
“Tonight we start our family!” she whispers, emotionally, close to crying.  “We are going to start the process of making babies.  OUR babies!”
She hugs me close again.  We stay locked together for a time; I am not sure how long it lasts.  But her love heals my soul.
Finally she disengages.  “Time to put that sexy little moneymaker of yours to work, sweetheart.”

The place is full of people.  The noise of their conversations is almost deafening.
Is it just me?  Or does everyone turn to look at me as we walk in?  I know for sure that the men’s eyes drop to my exposed cleavage. 
I feel increasingly nervous again.
The cameramen stay outside the crowd of people, lingering near the edges of the large room, their large lenses feel like eyes staring at me.  Their goggle eyed stare follows me as the two of us find a pair of stools at the bar.
We turn to face each other.  Andrea murmurs that my lipstick is smeared on my front teeth.  Self-consciously, I swab at it with a bar napkin.
Then, in a fraction of a second, the din of conversation goes silent.

Seduction 50


I follow the eyes of the crowd as they turn to look at someone, a person, a man, entering the room.  He walks with confidence, seemingly oblivious to everyone’s stare. 
He is gorgeous. 
He is everything that I have always fantasized about from the first day that I became aware of the opposite sex. 
Broad shoulders . . . very narrow hips . . . tall, dark, and handsome. 
Oh god he is handsome!
And graceful.  Long fingers.  Big hands.  Tiny hips.  His teeth are brilliantly white when he smiles at someone he knows.
He is wearing a brown sports jacket, and a pink shirt.  Dark trousers, black sneakers. 
My god, look at those shoulders. 
His skin is almost as dark as the unlit, black painted rafters overhead.
The only sound in the room are his footfalls as he moves to a table, pulls out a stool, and perches that sexy little tight butt of his on the seat, one foot still on the floor.
As if the whole room has been holding it’s breath, the conversations begin again. 
He reaches inside his jacket to his shirt pocket.  He takes out a little spiral-bound notebook that he places on the table in front of him.  He opens it.  He removes a black pen from inside his jacket pocket.  He uncaps the pen.  The tip of the barrel of the pen is blue.  Blue ink.  He starts to write. 
Languidly, he looks up at me . . . and smiles. 
His brilliant white teeth light up the room. 
I feel suddenly shy.  My eyes drop to my hands in my lap.
When I furtively glance back up, he is writing again. 
I watch his calm face as his hand, his graceful hand, prints line after line. 
“What is he writing?” I whisper to Andrea.
Andrea chuckles.  “He’s a poet, baby.  Isn’t he gorgeous?”
I nod, too smitten to speak.
He looks up again and my eyes dart back to my lap.
I feel my heart thumping in my breast.
My nipples are aching.
My moisture is gathering as my tummy flutters. 
Is this really the man that will be my paramour this night, the man that will share my bed?  The father of my child?
I look up again, hoping he isn’t looking at me; I want to ingest his beauty, and I know I can’t if he is looking at me.
He is left-handed!
A woman walks over to his table and says something. 
I feel a deep stab of jealousy . . . all the way through my soul. 
He smiles back at her, says a few words, then returns to writing. 
She walks away, obviously disappointed by his disinterest in her.  I exult!
Andrea leans over and whispers in my ear, “I see you are attracted to him, baby.  Do you think you can be responsive enough to him to let him breed you?  Is he the one that you want to make our baby?  Will he be able to make you orgasm over and over as he inseminates your womb?”  She grins wickedly.
I nod as I stare at this Adonis, too overwhelmed to speak.  Right now, if anyone so much as touches me, even just my earlobe, I will cum!
He looks up and smiles at me.
This time I find the strength to return his gaze. 
This time I find the strength to smile back at him.  I think my lips are trembling, but I keep smiling.  I force my eyes to stay locked with his.
We gaze at each other for an eternity.  It is not long enough.
I watch his eyes appreciate my form.  His eyes linger on my girls.  Without even thinking, I pull my shoulders back to better accentuate them for his pleasure.
He nods in approval. 
My nipples ache with desire.
I crave his touch, his kiss, his caress. 
I crave being able to touch his skin, to taste his kiss. 
I crave feeling him enter my body. 

I crave feeling him explode inside me.

Wednesday, November 06, 2013

Seduction 48

Seduction 48


Andrea caresses me, teases me, tantalizes me while we unpack our clothing.  Several times she plucks my nipples.  She even inserts her fingers once, checking my state of arousal.
She grins when she feels my moisture.  “You are definitely ready for penetration baby!” she giggles.  “Are you ready to feel a gorgeous black male inseminate you, make our baby inside your belly?”
I blush.  I nod hesitantly.  “Will you still like me when I am fat and swollen?” I ask, afraid of her answer.
She takes my face between her hands, her face within inches of mine.  “As my father used to say almost every time he saw a pregnant woman, ‘A woman is never sexier than when she is nine months pregnant!’  I agree with him.  Your boobs will be plump and swollen with milk.  Your butt will be firm and round from carrying the added weight of the baby.  Your face will glow with health.  What’s not to love about you when your preggers, baby?”
I kissed her softly, hoping against hope that she will make love to me. 
Lovingly, she kisses me back, fondling my breast.  Then she pulls away.  “No release until you are with your stud, baby.  I want you so on-edge that you literally explode when he fills you with his baby-batter!”
With that she turns to lay out what she wants me to wear when I meet what might be our child’s father.  She looks up at me.  “Call your husband and let him know we arrived in good shape, baby.”
Jon has always been tuned into the sound of my voice, able to read my moods.  “Hey baby!  Thanks for calling!  I miss you terribly.  But thank god Andrea is going to video your love making, so I’ll get to watch you while it happens!  I’ve been hard continuously since you left!”
I had conveniently forgotten about being videoed!  “She’s going to video us?” I ask, startled, feeling very timid about the idea.  I remind myself that she owns me.  And she owns the products of my genitalia, of my body.  My tummy trembles even more.  “Is she going to put it on the Internet?” I ask.
“Of course baby!”  That’s where I get to watch it!  She makes a huge amount of money by selling the real time video of people having sex.  No fake stuff.  Just real sex by real people!” he says, obviously turned on by the idea.  “You sound a little scared, but very turned on, baby.”
As usual, Jon is right.  “Yeah,” I admit.
We are silent for a little while.  Jon reads my unspoken question.  “Yes sweetheart, I will love you being pregnant by another man, and yes, I will love our little baby.”
I whisper, “Thank you honey.”  I really needed to hear him say that right now.
‘Oh my god, this is really going to happen!’ I think, again, for the hundredth time.
Andrea helps me undress and then put on the clothes she has laid out for me.
She pulls me over to stand in front of the mirror while she tweaks my clothing.
My Andrea is really excited.  “Stand there while I take your picture to put on the Internet.  I think we are going to have a record number of log-ons!  Every person that logs on for this event pays a hundred dollars per half hour.  We’re going to make bank tonight, Sweet Pea!”
She snaps away as she has me turn and move and show off what she calls my sales appeal.  She posts the pictures on her porn site as I watch. 
I have to admit, I really do look seductive!
We watch as the number of logons rise, as the total site count swells, as the dollar ticker races upward.
Andrea laughs as she points at the computer screen.  “That lil ‘money maker’ of yours is definitely a money-maker, baby!  Look at that dollar amount skyrocket!”

Sunday, October 27, 2013

Seduction 47

Seduction 47


On the ride to the hotel, I asked Andrea when my ‘friend’ was going to arrive.
“He’s already here,” she said with a furtive grin.  “We’re going to go out tonight, and he will be there.”  She chuckled.  “It will be interesting to see if you can pick out the future father of your child from all the men that will be at the club!”
I thought about that for a while.  “What if I pick out the wrong one?”  The idea bothered me.
Andrea chuckled again.  “Well, the more men that you let play with your cute little cunny, the more men will be willing to pay for spending a night with you sweetie.  Think of it as advertising!”
A couple of minutes later, she added, “Just keep in mind that john’s can be good looking, rich, fun to be with, and good in the hay, all at the same time.”
I had never thought of it that way before.
She adopted a very conspiratorial tone, “So every time you see a cutie pie that turns you on, and you would like to . . . sample him, make sure you let him know through flirty eye contact that you would welcome his advances.  And when he inserts his fingers in you, use your vaginal muscles just like we practiced.  Most women do not know that little trick.  Or if they do, they are too lazy to do it.  They just lie there and let the guy, her husband or next-door neighbor, or whoever, pound her.  After a while, the poor husbands are lucky if they can even get off.  They feel rejected, get bored.  Their fantasies start to wander, if you know what I mean.  No, baby, believe me, men love a clutching, wildly alive pussy that welcomes their intrusions!”
Her face became dreamy.  “I can’t tell you how many men . . . good looking, well built, gentle, appreciative men . . . became my regulars because my vagina felt alive and welcoming, interested . . . unlike their white wives and girlfriends.”
I was flabbergasted!  I had never thought about why men might prefer a whore to their wife!  I thought about how Jon had become bored with our sex life.  Hell!  I was bored with it! 
But it had never occurred to me that I could do something about it; that I could become good in bed.  That by becoming good in bed I would actually start enjoying sex, that my husband could actually enjoy sex with me again. 
Almost like a new start. 
Except . . . .
I am a whore now and am trying to get pregnant with my john . . . a black man . . . to make my female lover happy . . . my black female lover that wants to live with me . . . and our children.  And is my pimp.  And my husband that wants to watch me have sex with other men.
And women.
And all of this is turning me on.  REALLY turning me on.  It would only take a single touch to . . . to . . . to trigger me . . . set me off . . . right now.
I am trembling.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Seduction 46


The tickets arrived the next morning about 11:00 o’clock.  There was a ticket for me, and a ticket for Andrea.  No ticket for Jon.  Which, when I thought about it, was good.  He had to work.  IF this all turned out to be a dream of some sort, we would need his income.
I could not stop thinking about the questions uppermost in my mind.  ‘Am I really a highly paid call girl now?  How did this happen?  Why am I doing this?  What is the difference between a call girl and a whore anyway?  And why does my tummy quiver every time I think about being a whore?  Why do I suddenly enjoy getting paid huge sums of money to have sex with strangers?  And for god’s sake, why does it turn me on to get paid to have unprotected sex with strangers?’
It had been years since I enjoyed sex with my husband.  I suspect he knew that. 
But then I have sex with fifty men in a bar, or what ever you call it, and they all leave their sex cream inside me, and I get so turned on that I can’t stop fantasizing about it happening again?
It’s like I am on hair trigger to have orgasms!  Plural.  I have never had more than one orgasm in a night, and that was on our honeymoon.  And now, I can suddenly cum for hours?  With a strangers?  Especially black men I don’t even know?
I’m a whore.  I am a high priced call girl whore!  And I love it!  What is going on with me?


Andrea and I spent over two thousand dollars on clothing for me.  She picked out each of the outfits.  VERY sexy outfits!  No underwear; just dresses and blouses and skirts and belts and shoes.  Oh my god the shoes!  And hose.  And sleepwear.  Sexy, slinky, revealing, seductive nightwear . . . for my Johns to enjoy me in.  Not for my husband.  Only men that paid to have sex with me.
In the dressing room, while I was trying on a shear white peignoir, Andrea slid two fingers into me and commanded me to do my vaginal exercises.  It only took me minutes and I went off again.  Andrea held her hand over my mouth to muffle my wails of lust. 
Everyone was staring at me when we walked out of the dressing room.  I actually felt kind of proud.  Some of the women looked embarrassed, some looked shocked, but most of them looked envious. 
I could feel my nipples, hard, proudly poking out as I walked through the store to the cashier, wobbly after my orgasm.  A couple of husband’s got their heads slapped as they stared.


We flew first class.  I wore a very sexy outfit.  Men kept walking by my seat, trying not to be obvious about sneaking a peak at my girls. 
Even that turned me on.
Andrea and I would giggle to each other when a guy did that.  Several women also flirted with me. 
As we were landing, Andrea leaned over and told me that she would be in a room next to mine.  She explained that there would be a door between the rooms.  I was to let no one into my room except through that party-wall doorway.  Andrea would test every man that would come through her room before they went through that doorway.  In other words, any person coming through that doorway between her room and mine was to be considered a client, and I should be the kind of woman they wanted me to be.  The kind of woman they had paid good money to enjoy.
When we stood up to exit the aircraft, I realized just how moist I was.
Andrea asked me if I am excited, or was I scared?
I thought for a few seconds.  “Both!” I admitted. 
“Spread your legs so I can check how wet you are, honey bunny.”
Blushing bright red, I did.  She inserted her finger without even trying to hide it from the men across the aisle.  She giggled.  “Yes, you certainly are!  You are drenched baby girl!”
Those men across the aisle were goggle-eyed, their mouths hanging open.
I smiled wickedly at them, then winked. 
Their erections were very obvious.  I reached down and patted the man’s crotch that was nearest the aisle.  “Don't you wish you were my date, baby?” I whispered in his ear.
I raked my fingernails lightly across the tip of his pee-pee.
He came hard, and, unfortunately, loud.  Everyone heard him.


As we walk off the plane, I can not stop thinking about the fact that I am actually going to be trying to get pregnant . . . to be inseminated . . . no . . . to be bred . . . for the whole time I am in Jamaica, by the man, the stud, that is paying to have sex with me; the black stud that is paying a tidy sum to fuck me as much as he wants to.  No holds barred.  Bareback.  I felt my bunny clench involuntarily, just like earlier when Andrea had blatantly fingered me. 

I almost squirted.